


the kane and son show

by heungminie (kumajoonie)



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: (a little), Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, But just barely, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Feminization, Fluff, Harry Kane ego inflation tbh, Humiliation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Riding, Sex Tapes, Sonny wearing Harry's #10 shirt, Sonny with a bunny tail plug, society when I finish a sextape fic the same day they break the record!, yes somehow there's fluff and love and tenderness on top of the porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29909253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kumajoonie/pseuds/heungminie
Summary: Sonny wants to make a sex-tape. When has Harry ever said no to him?_happy premiere league record-holders bitches!!!!
Relationships: Harry Kane/Son Heung-Min
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	the kane and son show

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: i’m gonna be posting a bunch of works w sub btm heungmin, pls don’t take this as me generalizing asians as sub btms. i don’t subscribe to that, nd i’m literally a queer asian that leans AGGRESSIVELY (help) dom/top myself so i’m aware we exist. i just have a Preference for sub btm heungmin for… obvious reasons (personal bias)
> 
> also during the sex tape recording harry says some mean/kinda problematic things for the sake of the scene… they’re not reflective of my own views or any suggestion that he actually holds those views, just consensual roleplaying of toxicity(?) between him and sonny
> 
> with that let’s get on to the depravity:

Sonny had made the confession while delirious, his eyes half-lidded, and starving for it: 

“ _I want them all to know_.”

It took some trying for Harry to really coax it out of him. Lots of people _do_ _know_ about them, no matter how tight-lipped they remain about it. It didn’t seem like a matter of just telling people — this thing Sonny wanted so desperately. 

The first time Harry got close to deciphering it was by accident, when Sonny had been careless in the showers at Hotspur Way. He was usually so well-behaved, always burying his face into Harry’s shoulder and biting down on the flesh to keep from making a sound. This time, Sonny threw his head back on the wall he was hoisted up against, smacking it with a thud. “ _Fuck_ , H,” he moaned, reedy and abrupt. When no one reacted, Sonny went again, whining “H” over and over, louder with each breath until Pierre was banging on the divider to shut him up. That was the first time Harry saw Sonny’s hunger satisfied, even if just a little. 

It escalated from there. Sonny erred on the side of danger, more eager than advisable to scream Harry’s name out during quickies on the training grounds or to allude to the fact that they were shagging at all. Still, none of it fulfilled his desire the way Harry knew Sonny wished it would. It seemed it wasn’t enough, just the first team knowing about it. Sonny wanted more, Harry knew he wanted more, but he didn’t know what _more_ entailed. He finally got it when he caught Sonny in bed one night, cards laid completely bare.

Harry had just come back from washing up, his hair soaked and spitting out droplets whenever he shook it out. Maybe it was because of his silent footsteps, having been barefoot from the shower, that Sonny didn’t notice him coming. Or maybe it was because Sonny was too engrossed in his phone. He was holding it delicately up above him, constantly changing the angle of its tilt. By watching the light dance off his face, Harry could tell that he was looking at himself on the screen. 

“I thought you didn’t like selfies,” Harry had said, switching his towel out for a pair of shorts. Sonny yelped in reaction when he’d been caught, immediately dropping the phone onto his chest like it was contraband.

Harry crawled over him in amusement and murmured, “Don’t you always say you’re too _shy_ for them? ” He pushed his face into Sonny’s chest, kissing at the skin with a smile.

Sonny’s cheeks heated — nearly as flushed as he gets after five too many rounds of vodka shots. “I’m not taking _selfies_ ,” he defended, rolling over to slip his phone into the bedside table drawer. 

Harry was faster, reaching over Sonny’s body to snatch it right out of his hands. “But looks like you were checking yourself out,” Harry prodded on just to tease him. He clicked the phone on and opened up the camera, raking the viewfinder over Sonny’s neck and bare chest without recording. “And why wouldn’t you want to admire it all?” Harry asked, focusing the lens on the plenty of red bruises bitten, sucked, or pressed into Sonny’s skin. “Reminds you who you belong to, doesn’t it?”

He chuckled easily, then shut the phone off and dropped it back by Sonny’s hand, but Sonny didn’t grab for it or even make an effort to hide it away again. He just swallowed, eyes falling somewhere between the dead screen and Harry’s hands. “I want to do _that_ ,” he admitted in a whisper.

Oh. _Oh._

Something like _that_ takes a lot of planning. It takes Harry digging up the old iPhone 5 he hasn’t seen since the stone age and ripping its guts out; the SIM is chucked into the bin, the wi-fi capacity sabotaged, and any dreams of an iCloud backup promptly assassinated. As a smartphone, it serves virtually zero functionality — except the very one Sonny craves.

It can _see_ and it can _remember_ , which is all Sonny needs.

Sonny pays attention while Harry draws up the rules. He isn’t to touch the phone unless given permission, he is to answer every question asked of him, and he is to safe-word out whenever he wants to stop. He agrees, a slow nod that looks like the lulled staccato of a man on autopilot.

“Ready?” Harry asks, the phone turned over in his hand. With his other, he reaches down for Sonny’s neck and squeezes around it. Sonny looks up at him from his place on the floor, knees tucked sweetly under his thighs. “Yeah. ‘m ready.”

Harry smiles, relaxing and propping himself up with a hand behind him on the bed. He brings the phone up, pointing its camera at Sonny, and taps the red circle to start recording. Sonny whimpers at the chime.

The lighting is gentle on Sonny’s skin, bright enough that he’s visible, but low enough that faint shadows fill in the gaps. A glint bounces off his pupils, most noticeable through the phone screen. 

“Why don’t you get my cock out, baby?” Harry encourages gently.

Sonny answers quietly, “Okay.” He eases up onto his knees, then carefully curls his fingers under Harry’s waistband. Harry lifts his hips up to help Sonny along, until his boxers are tugged down to his ankles. Sonny scoots a little closer, hands pressed into both of Harry’s thighs, lips already starting to part at the sight of it.

“Why don’t you show them all, Sonny? How good you get for me.”

Sonny obeys, pressing a wet kiss to the side of Harry’s dick, already half-hard against his mouth. He drools on it a little, until it slides easily against his cheek, and his lips are spitslicked. Sonny licks up to the head, then closes his mouth around the tip. A soft rumbling tremors through his throat; it’s a moan that’s far too pleased. 

“Like that, don’t you?” Harry coos, shoving his fingers deep into Sonny’s hair. He pushes at Sonny’s head until he’s halfway down his cock and humming out in surprise. Sonny rises to the occasion, taking it deeper into his throat until Harry’s groaning. “Bet you’d do anything to do this for the rest of your life, you love it so much.”

Sonny whines, pulling off with a pretty pop. His lips are shining, still wet and swollen. Harry wipes his thumb over them and slips it between them without trouble. Sonny looks right into the camera as he coats it with his saliva. 

“English cock tastes best for you, doesn’t it?” Harry asks, voice low as he presses his thumb down on Sonny’s tongue. Sonny nods, then opens his mouth, letting Harry’s thumb fall from it. “Yeah,” he agrees in response.

“ _Yes?_ ” Harry reminds.

“Yes, captain. S’my favorite.” 

“Hm. Good.”

Sonny drops his head again and guides Harry back into his mouth. He’s rougher this time, pushing the head of Harry’s cock into his cheek with the tip of his tongue. He reaches for Harry’s free hand, carefully pulling it towards his face until it’s cradling his cheek, resting over the swell outlining Harry’s dick through his skin. Sonny blinks, then looks up at Harry under his lashes, not directly at his face but through the camera.

Harry’s breath catches for a moment as he sees it on the screen. Sonny — utterly ardent, beautifully submissive, and despite the guise of the recording, completely and wholly _his_. He laughs then, smoothing his palm over the bulge in Sonny’s cheek, then down the back of his throat. “You’re such a cockslut. That’s what you are. Mine, and you make a good one too.”

Sonny nods, throat going slack without any effort to speed up his pace.

Harry lightly rolls his hips once, then looks down at him with a smirk. “Should I fuck you now, love? If you’re getting lazy with your mouth, should I just bend you over and have you take it?” He yanks Sonny up and off, expecting an answer.

“ _Please_ ,” Sonny begs. “Want it now, H.”

“Be patient then. Get up, get on the bed like a good boy.”

Sonny nods, pushing up off his knees and scrambling toward the bed’s edge. Harry helps, curling his fist into Sonny’s shirt to pull him up onto the mattress. It comes into view on-screen as he climbs up, revealing the white Tottenham kit _purposefully_ a couple sizes too large so that it hangs loose around Sonny’s collar bone. 

Harry keeps the camera trained on him while he crawls up over the covers, concentrated on the way the fabric drapes across the arch of Sonny’s spine. He stands, coming around behind Sonny to watch him get onto his hands and knees. The lamplight floods into frame, bringing the shirt’s details into slow focus. The camera watches as Harry swipes his palm over the large, bold letters spelling out “KANE” and the number 10 stamped across Sonny’s back, reinforcing an unwavering truth. “You’re mine,” Harry mutters again. He finds his fingers dancing at the hem, slowly dragging the shirt up Sonny’s thighs until he can feel the curve of Sonny’s warm skin under his palm. He trails his fingers across his inner thighs, until Sonny’s shaking before him. 

“Can I pull this up, baby?” Harry asks, lifting the hem dangerously high up Sonny’s ass. “I’ll show everyone how well you spread your legs for me.”

Sonny nods, hair fluffing up against the comforter he’s gone and hidden his face in. He drops his middle and lifts his hips up, always so perfect at getting into posture.

When Harry pushes the shirt up his thighs and past his waist, Sonny whimpers at the knowledge that the camera can see _all of him_. Harry chuckles at Sonny’s embarrassment, like he hadn’t been the one begging Harry to film him for weeks on end. He squeezes at one of Sonny’s bare cheeks, then smacks it hard enough that it buzzes red. “I think the camera’s taken to that color on you,” Harry teases. That has Sonny pushing back, widening the distance between his thighs ever so slightly.

“Good, Sonny. Don’t hide.” Harry rubs his palm against the light welt, then drags his thumb across the swell of Sonny’s ass, until it’s pressing into the dip between his cheeks. He slips his thumb down toward Sonny’s hole, where a ball of white fluff instead obscures it from view. Harry drops the phone a bit, letting the camera watch as he pinches the pom-pom between his thumb and his forefinger and gently tugs at it. “You’re so pretty, bunny.”

Sonny hums in weak agreement, whining messily into the bed. He wiggles his ass, presenting the little white bunny tail inside him. With a little grunt of effort, Sonny lifts his head up and looks back around at Harry. He bats his eyelashes to top it off, like the little devil he is.

“You know you’re pretty, don’t you? Even more when you’re in my shirt like this.” With one light pull, the rounded glass tip of the plug slips out of Sonny, leaving him to clench around emptiness.

Harry ignores Sonny’s whining and scoops up the bottle of lube that’s rolled against Sonny’s thigh. “ _Wait_ , Sonny,” he reminds while popping the cap open with his free hand. He smoothes the lube over his cock and jerks himself lightly before pressing the tip against Sonny’s hole. Sonny complains again, making a show of pushing his hips back so that Harry just barely nudges inside him.

“Too impatient, you.” Harry laughs and steadies a hand around Sonny’s waist, the heel of it pressing against that big number 10. When Sonny calms, he slides in, pointing the camera down and letting it capture the way his cock sinks into Sonny’s ass. “Like that, Sonny?”

Sonny stuffs the blankets into his mouth and wails around it, “Yes, _yes_.”

“You’re taking it so well, like you always do,” Harry groans as he pushes into the hilt, nestling between Sonny’s cheeks. He glides half-way out, showing how tight Sonny’s gone around him. “Your hole’s so pretty, baby. So tight for me. Wanna show it off, don’t you?”

Sonny affirms with a strangled moan that isn’t otherwise discernible. He sways his hips lightly with Harry inside him.

The camera creeps up Sonny’s ass and onto his back, where Harry’s coiled a fist into the bottom of the shirt. He’s going lightheaded at the vision of Sonny paraded in _his_ number, in his shirt. Nothing but Sonny marked with the name Kane, Kane, _Kane_. It was a nice touch, courtesy of Sonny. 

So that’s what he meant when he said he _wanted_ _them all to know_.

“D’you know how many people want my cock, Sonny? How many people would kill to be in your place, wearing my shirt and getting the fuck of their life?” Harry seethes more than asks.

“Yes, captain-”

Harry startles Sonny by slamming back into him, so hard that his hips jerk forward. “Then show them why you deserve it. Make the world understand exactly why it’s you taking my cock and not them.”

Sonny mewls, hands clawing at the pillows and fucking back onto Harry’s dick with vivacity. His hips roll back in increasing speed, until all that’s filling his ears is the sound of Harry’s heavy breathing and his ass slapping back against Harry’s thighs.

“Aren’t you so lucky, Sonny? Lucky to get this cock when girls across England would spread their legs for it.”

“Yes, yeah. Mine only, so lucky,” Sonny huffs out, athleticism devoted to repeatedly impaling himself on Harry’s cock. “Feels so good, I love it so much.”

“Earning it, aren’t you? Taking my cock like a pretty girl,” Harry says it with a bit of malice, just a touch of cruelty that has Sonny melting around him. He’s still pressing back against Harry, but his thighs are trembling with each thrust. Sonny eases forward, until Harry’s almost slipping out of his hole, and Harry yanks him back onto his cock by the bottom of his shirt, rolling his hips while he’s plunged as deep as he can go. He’s aiming to unravel Sonny, from the inside out.

“Harder,” Sonny whines back. He lets himself be tethered onto Harry’s dick by the hand in his shirt, forcing him to just stay there and take it.

Harry maintains his grip while he slides his cock in and out again, fucking into Sonny with long, languid thrusts that make him scramble for the pillow by his head and hug it to his face. “Feels so nice,” Sonny assures, turning his head and pressing his cheek into the cushion. “So full, daddy.”

Harry slows his pace there, chuckling a little. “Calling me daddy already, are you?”

Sonny sighs out, lovely and satisfied. Harry leans over to brush Sonny’s cheek with the back of his hand, putting his worn face on display for the camera. “God, you’re a pretty thing,” Harry murmurs. “I want them to see your face.”

Sonny cracks an eye open and smiles, soft and tender. “Okay.”

Harry slides out of him, then crawls up the bed himself and lies back down. He settles onto his elbows, then pats his thigh. “Come up on my lap, Sonny.” 

Sonny waddles across the mattress on his knees, eventually placing them on either side of Harry’s stomach. He lifts his hips up to hover over Harry’s cock, reaching behind himself to line the tip up with his hole.

Harry makes sure the camera stays on Sonny’s face as he sinks down, watching the way it screws up as he pushes Harry deep inside. His nose scrunches, his eyes shut tight, and he’s biting down on his bottom lip so hard that Harry has to brush against them to remind him to stop. 

“Took it all in one go,” Sonny pants when he’s finally fully seated on Harry’s cock. 

Harry chuckles at his Sonny, always scouting opportunities for praise. “Yes, baby. You did.”

Sonny presses his hips forward lightly, testing the feel of Harry’s dick pressing against his insides. Harry lets him feel it out for a little, until Sonny’s steadying himself with a hand on the bed and experimentally lifting his hips until he’s less than halfway down on Harry’s cock.

Harry grabs for Sonny’s face, letting him nuzzle his cheek against his palm. He smiles, then says, “Be my good bunny, sweetheart. _Bounce_.”

At that, Sonny drops his body, pressing onto his knees and fucking down onto Harry’s dick in a single thrust.

“How do you think you look, Sonny?” Harry asks, panning the camera down to Sonny fucking himself on Harry’s cock, then up to him shaking his head profusely. Sonny swings an elbow up to cover his face, babbling about how he’s too shy to say. _All of a sudden?_ Harry laughs, gently pulling his arm down and placing Sonny’s hand on the shirt, so that he’s pulling it up to bare his chest and show off his leaking cock for the camera. “Come on, baby. Tell me how you look.”

Sonny’s riding Harry like his life depends on it, like if he isn’t slamming down on him until he’s gasping he’ll forget how to breathe air. “I look pretty,” he mumbles first, then, firmer, “Look pretty when I’m on daddy’s cock.”

“Yeah?” Harry breathes out, free hand digging into the meat of one of Sonny’s thighs.

“Yeah, daddy’s cock in me makes me look good. Wanna be on it every day so I can be pretty for you.”

Harry holds the camera back, letting it see all of Sonny, from his reddening face, to his pretty chest, to his cock dripping with precum and slapping up against his stomach as he bounces. “Fucking hell, Sonny. You’re making me wanna leak the sex tape. Might as well show the whole world how good you take it, not just assists, but the way you ride this cock. _The_ _Kane and Son show,_ they call it. Don’t you wish they could watch us?”

Sonny whines, nodding almost as fast as he’s fucking down onto Harry.

“Think of all the _fans_ ,” Harry presses on, holding back a groan as Sonny rides him into madness. “Think of them seeing their golden boy, their favorite number seven, Son Heungmin, bouncing on a cock. They’d be so surprised, don’t you think? Actually… maybe they’d have known all along how much you’d like that.”

Sonny moans, his palm sliding down to cover Harry’s hand on his thigh. He squeezes. _Keep going._

“Most everyone probably thinks you just fuck about with some random girl when we win, God knows you have enough throwing themselves at you. Endless fangirls dreaming that they’d be the lucky one to go home with you after a match, to lay under you while you fuck them stupid.”

Sonny ruts faster, rolling his hips forward to brush Harry’s cock against a spot that makes his thighs shake. “More, Harry, _more_.”

“But that isn’t it, is it? Wouldn’t they love to see what we do when we win a game? Maybe we should show everyone how the magical KaneSon linkup really goes, how it’s _you_ bending over for a cock by the end of the night.”

Sonny whimpers, then lifts Harry’s hand up and curls it around the base of his throat. Harry squeezes tight, and Sonny almost keels over. “H, ‘m gonna come soon,” he mewls. His legs are going weak, his bounces becoming uneven.

Harry hums and folds the phone into one of Sonny’s hands, freeing his own two to cup Sonny’s ass as he sits up. Sonny stalls his hips and falls against Harry, letting him cradle his body and gently roll them onto Sonny’s back.

Sonny fumbles with the phone until it’s secure in his hand, then points the camera down toward his parted thighs as Harry fucks shallowly into him. His dick is pulsing, up and down, like it’s asking for relief. Harry pulls out to the tip, then slams back inside. Sonny watches the slight bulge of his tummy grow, rubs it in awe with his hand. “So full,” he croons out. “Make me so full, H.”

“Like getting filled, don’t you? Then if the fangirls can’t have you, Sonny… I reckon there’s a lot of lads who’d like to give it to you.” Harry punctuates that with a deeper thrust, which has Sonny’s hips twitching up from the bed. He picks up the pace with little care for Sonny’s fingers trembling around the phone. Sonny throws his head back, just over the edge of the mattress, as Harry repeatedly slams into him.

“I’ve seen the way fanboys talk about you, Sonny. They’d fuck you until you were drooling, just to thank you for all you’ve done for Spurs. A whole sea of grateful Spurs fans fighting each other for the chance to spread your legs.” Sonny nearly goes cross-eyed hearing it, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he _imagines_. Harry pushes Sonny’s shirt up to his neck, so that he can grope at his chest. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Harry grunts, fucking him faster. “Like them to see how well you take my cock, how well you’d take theirs?” 

Sonny’s thighs start shuddering, his body itself shaking from the sheer force of Harry’s thrusts, pushing him and the duvet sloppily down the bed. “But they can’t. ‘Cause you’re _mine_ ,” Harry growls.

That rocks through Sonny, pulling out a high, thin whine from his throat and plunging straight between his legs. His dick twitches, spurting cum over his own chest and the phone in his hand. Harry breathes out a chuckle at him, wiping some of the mess on Sonny’s chest onto his fingers and smearing it across Sonny’s cheek. “It’s _my_ cock you get, mine that you sit on your heels all day waiting for.” 

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Sonny agrees, squirming at the sensation of Harry fucking him past his orgasm.

“Want my cum too?” Harry grunts out, jackhammering into poor, exhausted Sonny. He’s relentless, sweat-damp hair messy over his face, towering over Sonny and shrinking him underneath.

“Want it so bad,” Sonny begs. He’s completely spent and still too eager to please. “Want you to fill me up. Want it inside.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harry groans. “Gonna give it to you.” It takes just a few more thrusts for Harry to make good on that, rolling deep into Sonny as he comes. Sonny’s eyes roll back as he feels it, and he scrabbles for the bunny tail plug with his free hand. He looks up at Harry again, eyes wide with desire. “ _Please_ ,” he asks as he holds it out for Harry.

“Sure, love.” Harry takes both the plug and the phone, then carefully pulls out of Sonny. He points the camera down, allowing it to watch just a little of his cum spill out of Sonny’s hole. He pushes it back into Sonny with his thumb, then slips the glass plug in after it like a stopper. “Now you’re all plugged up with me inside,” he reassures.

Sonny nods, breathless and gorgeous, then wiggles the tail. 

Harry laughs, reaching for Sonny’s wrist and kissing the inside of it. “And you’re a bunny again,” he jokes. The smile that fills Sonny’s face then reminds Harry just why he’d never share this with the world.

He lets the camera take it all in for a second: Sonny laid out on his back, face flushed and pretty with cum shining on his cheek, eyes staring up in adoration, and a tired murmur of gratitude drifting out of his plush lips.

Harry presses the red circle to stop recording.

“My pretty Sonny. All for me, isn’t it?” Harry asks softly, tossing the phone haphazardly up the bed.

Sonny nods, one hand rubbing up and down Harry’s back, the other cupping his cheek. Harry leans down for him and kisses him, deep and dedicated and unending. Despite how much Sonny wants _everyone_ to know who he belongs to, there’s something special about privacy. Something special about the way Harry’s beard scratching against him has become the feeling of home. Something special about Harry chuckling when Sonny grins against his mouth. Harry sneaks one last kiss on Sonny’s nose and then pulls away. 

“All for you,” Sonny promises.

**Author's Note:**

> well… comments and kudos make my day!  
> as always, send anon hate to heungminie.tumblr.com
> 
> feel free to read my last two works: "friendly favors" (porn), and "you are that warmth inside my chest" (plot w a little porn) if you haven't already and would like to. i appreciate it!!


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